


Beyond the Sea

by kenaran



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adults, Angst, F/F, Harry Potter Epilogue Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24527857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenaran/pseuds/kenaran
Summary: A very insistent owl has Hermione rushing off to St Mungo's.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Minerva McGonagall, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 29
Kudos: 87





	Beyond the Sea

When the owl arrived Hermione Granger was very busy. Of course she was, it came with being Minister for Magic. The owl was very insistent though, so she read the letter right away. It informed her that there had been an accident. Increasing her already impressive reading speed even more, she finished the letter only a few seconds later before sweeping out of the room, both her previous tasks and the hapless owl forgotten.

She barely took the time to tell Travis Oakwood, her assistant, to cancel all of her appointments for the next few days before grabbing some floo powder and rushing into her office’s fireplace.

“St Mungo's Hospital!”

As was to be expected, she was greeted right away. That, too, came with being Minister for Magic. “Minerva McGonagall. Where is she?”, she snapped, in a tone that she usually would not be willing to tolerate, both in herself and others. But it would not do to lose any time.

Minerva McGonagall was dying.

The woman had become a friend of hers during her last year at Hogwarts when, as the only one of the Trio, she had returned to finish her NEWTs. They had stayed in contact after her graduation and become close friends in the process. And Minerva McGonagall had been her best friend ever since Rose was born and she had agreed to becoming her godmother. In fact, they had last seen each other on Rose’s fourteenth birthday not even a week back.

Hermione Granger would have dropped anything at any time to be here right now.

She burst into the room she had been pointed to, only to skid to a halt so suddenly that she was only narrowly missed by the door closing behind her. It was painfully obvious that Minerva was in really bad shape indeed. Out of sheer habit Hermione cast Muffliato, then hesitantly approached the bed, fearing she might already be too late. 

But as she sensed her approaching, the older woman opened her eyes, visibly struggling to do so. With obvious effort she also managed a small smile in a wordless greeting as her visitor sat down on the bedside in an attempt to be as close as possible. For a few seconds they simply looked at each other in silence. Then Minerva spoke up, her struggle to do so again unmistakable, “I am not going to make it.”

Hermione could not bring herself to speak and just shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes.

Slowly reaching out to take her friend’s hand, Minerva said, “Thank you for being here.”

Sniffling at first, Hermione finally managed to form words herself. “It’s the least I could do.” she said, gratefully grabbing onto Minerva’s hand.

Again they remained in silence, just lightly caressing each other’s hands with their thumbs, neither one knowing who was comforting whom. And again, it was Minerva’s turn to break the silence. Looking up from their intertwined hands she made sure to meet Hermione’s eyes, before saying, “I love you.”

More moments passed, more silence, Hermione simply holding the other woman’s intense look. Finally, she answered, “I know.” A single tear out of the multitude that had positioned themselves in her eyes managed to escape and run down her left cheek. “I am sorry I could not give you more.”

Though she barely managed to shake her head even a little and her voice was weak, there still was no doubt that Minerva was not having any of it. “Allowing me to be a part of your life was more than I had ever hoped for.” she said.

“A crucial part.” It was a truth they both were very much aware of, but Hermione still felt the need to voice it.

She had known for years what Minerva felt. Not once had they talked about it, but at one point, in one of the inevitable ‘it never rains but it pours’ periods of her life – back when Rose had still been tiny and an undeniably charming but also very fussy baby, Molly had been very sick for a time, and her own parents had been close to a divorce in the aftermath of returning from Australia – when what felt like a veritable deluge of problems threatened to drown her, Minerva had swept in like an angel. She had sent Ron and herself on regular visits to their respective parents. She had looked after Rose, not for long on each single occasion, but for countless hours when added up, showing unending love and patience in the process. She had taken care of quite a few other things as well, things that seemed trifling in normal times, but stifling during times like these. And, more than once, she had simply been there and held her. And once things were taking a turn for the better, once Hermione felt she safely had her head above water again, she lay awake one night, the first time in weeks not contemplating her many problems or soothing her little girl but thinking about Minerva and the way she always had her back. 

She loves me.

The thought had suddenly appeared in her head, seemingly from out of nowhere, not as a hypothesis but as certainty and in the following years she never once had reason to doubt this truth but, in fact, saw it reflected again and again in a myriad of ways, from the smallest of gestures right up to important turning points in both of their lives.

And, of course, she had been asking herself what she felt. Her marriage with Ron was nice, for lack of a better word. She did love him, and she also loved and adored her children very much, but still she could not help but feel that it was not quite enough, that something was missing, much as it pained her to admit it. 

Hermione was not one to give up easily. She spent countless hours inspecting her every thought and feeling, desperate to find this mysterious something. Her epiphany regarding Minerva’s feelings was a clue she happily picked up on. And it was with great regret but even greater certainty that, after thinking long and hard, she realized that while she did love Minerva dearly it clearly was not in that way.

But, of course, right now her heart was breaking nevertheless. Hermione had been completely lost in her thoughts. She had no idea for how long they had been there, once more in silence, after the last words she had uttered. Taking in Minerva’s fragile appearance, remembering countless invaluable moments they had shared, knowing that she would soon be gone, Hermione resolved to give her one more gift. The only thing she had left to give. 

Slowly and deliberately she leaned down to kiss her. Just once. It was the most tender, most caring, and also by far the saddest kiss she had ever experienced.

Sitting up again, Hermione looked down on Minerva’s eerily quiet, unmoving form. The older woman’s eyes were closed and a small, utterly serene smile was gracing her lips. A smile that was in stark contrast to the cascade of tears that was streaming down Hermione’s features unhindered.

She had been certain. 

She had also been wrong.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't posted any new fics in a _very_ long while. Never before for this particular pairing. But I have been stuck with these two ladies in my head for about three years now and there is a ton of fics with them in various states of completion sitting on my hard drive right now. A ton being 19, I just counted ;) Some of them are longer than the sum of everything I've posted so far. So, for me, that really is a lot.
> 
> This one, however, just kinda snuck up one me. It only took me two days to write. And it's nowhere near perfection, but I'm hoping it might get the ball rolling, so to speak.
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated.


End file.
